


Sense Of Finality

by afteriwake



Series: All Of Time And Space [16]
Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-03
Updated: 2012-07-03
Packaged: 2017-11-09 03:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So this is how a crush ends...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sense Of Finality

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t intend for this to be sad, but…it kind of is. This is the last time Sherlock will see her until she’s an adult, so it has a sort of finality to it.

She hadn’t seen him in years. The last time she was thirteen and making him breakfast for dinner. She was sixteen now, and the childhood crush had faded an awful lot. Rory had kind of become her boyfriend, though she didn’t call him that and every once in a while she’d go out with someone else for a bit. But there were times she thought about him, still, and she missed him.

It was Halloween, and Mels’ parents had let her throw a party. They weren’t home, which meant the teens in Leadworth had free reign of the place. She’d been there for a few hours, sipping at a lukewarm beer, when she decided she really didn’t want to be there. So she’d found Mels, interrupted her make-out session with Lewis Harverson and told her she was going home. Mels made a face but said it was cool and they’d talk tomorrow. Rory hadn’t come, and she was glad for it. All he would have done was complained.

She was dressed up in a witch costume, nothing sexy like she’d wanted, but it had comfortable shoes and she was glad for that because it was a long walk home from Mels if she wanted to avoid the hordes of trick-or-treaters. She went the long way, going by the park instead of taking the main road. She’d walked this way a million times before during the day, but it was night and she had to admit she was kind of spooked.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” she heard someone say behind her. She thought she recognized the voice, a low baritone that sent chills up her spine. She turned, and there he was, Sherlock Holmes. He looked very different now. He was still on the too thin side, but he wore a nice suit and his hair was longer. He was smoking a cigarette, and it looked as though he’d walked into the park by the side entrance while she’d cut through the main one.

“Same goes for you, stranger,” she said.

His eyes widened slightly and he lowered the hand with the cigarette. “Amelia?” he asked.

She nodded. “In the flesh and horrid witch costume, yeah.”

“You certainly are taller,” he replied, coming closer.

“Three years and a few growth spurts will do that,” she said. “You still look too thin. But the suit is nice. Dressing up for the holiday?”

He shook his head. “I found I like to wear suits,” he replied. He took another drag of his cigarette and she walked over to him and put her hand out. He raised an eyebrow, and she made a “give me” motion with her hand. He put the cigarette between his lips and then pulled out his pack and handed her one, then fished his lighter out of his pants pocket and handed her that as well. “Melody’s influence?”

“No. Aunt Sharon started a while back,” she said. She put the cigarette between her lips and lit it, inhaling before handing him back his lighter. “She knows I smoke. Doesn’t much care.”

‘Ah,” he replied with a nod. “I get the feeling your aunt doesn’t care much about you.”

“You finally noticed,” she said with a wry smile. “Walk me home?”

“All right,” he said. He moved to her side and they began walking, taking drags off their cigarettes as they did. “It’s been a long time. I had thought about stopping by earlier, but I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me.”

“Of course I’d want to see you,” she said, punching his shoulder slightly. “You’re the only person who’s left that I miss.”

He gave her a slight smile. “Even after all these years?”

“Even so,” she said. “I was your ally, remember?”

“Yes, I remember,” he said. “To tell the truth the only reason I’m back is because my mother is sick. If I had my way I’d stay in London and leave this place to rot. You’re the only person here I have any type of fond feelings for.” He finished his cigarette and dropped it on the ground, stepping on it to extinguish it. “Mycroft is back as well.”

“Oh, I feel for you,” she said sympathetically. “Is he still his horrid self?”

“Worse,” he replied. “He’s in the government. Makes him all puffed up. He’s insufferable.”

“Oh, poor you,” she said. 

“What about you?” he asked.

“I’m okay. Aunt Sharon goes off so I’m by myself a lot, which I kind of like. I spend time with Mels and Rory when she’s not here, so it’s not as though I have no life. I just left Mels’ Halloween party, actually.”

“Did Rory go with you? Because if he did and he let you walk home alone I might have a word with him before I leave.”

She chuckled. “No. We’re on the outs right now, because I was talking to Mark Harrison last week and he got jealous.” She shrugged. “He likes to think he’s my boyfriend. I like to think we’re able to see other people.” She looked at him. “What about you? Anybody in London you fancy?”

He shook his head. “I don’t have time for that. I’m too busy working.”

“What do you do?” she asked.

“I’ve started to make my way as a consulting detective.”

“A what?” she asked.

“I assist Scotland Yard with challenging cases,” he said.

“Why not just join Scotland Yard?” she asked.

“I don’t agree with the way they do things. It’s stupid and antiquated. There’s someone there who gives me cases every once in a while, Lestrade. And I work in the private sector as well.”

Amy finished her cigarette and put it out. “Sounds like you’re moving up in the world.”

“I like to think I am.” He looked at her. “Whose idea was it for the awful green face make-up?”

“Haven’t you ever seen ‘The Wizard of Oz’? You know, the Wicked Witch of the West?” He shook his head and she stared at him, jaw hanging. “I knew you were weirder than most but wow.”

“I’m not weird,” he said.

“Hey, I’m weird too,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not a bad thing. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Well, it did,” he said sourly.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, removing her hand.

They walked on in an awkward silence for a little while more before he spoke again. “I should be apologizing. I didn’t mean to snap.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “Everyone’s got something that sets them off.”

He stopped and looked at her. “Yes but you’re…a friend. Possibly my only friend. I shouldn’t push you away.”

She looked at him. “Three years of not talking to me didn’t stop me from being your friend. Look, while you’re here in Leadworth, why don’t we hang out?”

“I’m actually going back to London tomorrow,” he said. “I can’t take any more time away from my case.”

“Oh,” she said, disappointed. She started to walk again, and he fell into step with her. “So you were going to leave without seeing me?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me,” he said. “Next time I’m home I’ll make sure I come by.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

They continued to walk and talk, and by the time they got to her home she felt happy again. She got to her front door and fished out her key. “Do you want to come in and get a bite?” she asked.

“I can’t,” he replied. “I should have gotten back already.”

“Ah,” she said. She unlocked the door and opened it, then turned to him. “You take care, okay?”

“I’ll try,” he said.

She took off her hat and then went over and kissed his cheek. He was surprised, she could tell by his widened eyes. “I’ll see you next time you’re back. Night, Sherlock.”

“Good night, Amelia,” he said. She went inside, shut the door behind her and leaned against it. Friends. He thought of her as a friend. That was better than an ally, but not what she wanted at all. And with that, the crush was stomped down and buried as she realized that maybe a friend was all she would ever be to him. What a depressing end to the day, she thought to herself as she trudged upstairs. What a depressing end to a crush.


End file.
